


New Names, New Beginnings

by BreezyDaze



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Choking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Possessive Behavior, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 05:39:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18685222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreezyDaze/pseuds/BreezyDaze
Summary: Becoming legitimized meant an entirely new life for Ramsay Bolton. The most important part of that new life was getting married. After a long correspondence between Roose Bolton and King’s Landing, a bride to keep the Bolton/Lannister alliance had finally been chosen.This is a fun Ramsay smut fic with a bit of plot if you fancy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I’d like to thank you for taking time to read my fic! I’m a new Game of Thrones fan but a long time villain fan so when I saw Ramsay I was like well shit time to write some shameful smutty fan fiction. 
> 
> Forewarning this is going to get dark at points. I mean it’s Ramsay what do you expect? If you’re reading this I’d hope you like sadistic villains and are expecting some fucked up stuff. So I hope you enjoy very possessive Ramsay and my shame, it starts off pretty tame but I have lots of chapters planned, might get a little dub-con in the later ones. Who knows. 
> 
> My tumblr is eyeballsto-entrails.tumblr.com if you’d like to follow me there and chat

White snow crunched under horse hooves and carriage wheels as a small party traveled north. A golden lion intricately painted on the side of the carriage indicated this group as being Lannisters. Four guardsmen road along with the carriage, two in front as well as two in back. Each set of armor as immaculately polished as the next, all baring the Lannister house sigil as well. News of the royal family being in the north spread through the small towns quickly enough; it was clear their destination was Winterfell and everyone wanted to know why. A Lannister traveling party this far North rarely meant good things. Every town they passed through was left with a feeling of dread or horrors soon to come. 

Roose Bolton however, was very pleased to see the Lannister traveling party arrive at the gates of Winterfell. Their arrival had been expected within the next few days and he had been growing restless waiting. He gave a shout to the guards, the gates then slowly began to creep open. As the carriage rolled in, Roose’s son Ramsay came out to stand next to his father.

It was clear Ramsay was even more excited for the arrival of the Lannister’s than his father because the boy was practically vibrating. Roose could tell his son was keeping himself calm, but only barley. He could not blame the young man though. A week prior the final raven from a long correspondence with the small council arrived. With Ramsay now a legitimized Bolton he needed a proper bride. One that would help strengthen the Bolton Lannister alliance. There had a been a few girls’ names passed back and forth through the ravens, some more suitable than others. Sansa Stark had been strongly considered for a time due to her family’s history in Winterfell. However with her betrothal to Tyrion and then subsequent disappearance after Joffrey’s murder, she had to be reconsidered. Now neither men knew the identity of the girl in the carriage, only that she was a Lannister. 

Once the horses and carriage reached a complete stop inside the courtyard of Winterfell one of the guardsmen dismounted his horse gracefully. He unlatched the carriage door with a loud clack then pulled it open for the passengers inside. Ramsay could hear his heart thumping in his ears with each passing second. The anticipation had gotten to him for once. Annoyingly out stepped Petyr Baelish, Lord Protector of the Vale. A clearly fake smile plastered across his face as he waved to the Warden of the North.

“It’s good to finally see you Lord Baelish, I know this journey is not one taken with ease.” Roose greeted politely as he approached the carriage, Ramsay in tow. 

“A journey I have taken many times and grown accustomed to,” he stated with a small chuckle, “however I’m not sure the same can be said about my traveling companion.” All heads turned toward the carriage door as Petyr extended his hand inside. Another smaller gloved hand grasped his and he took a sidestep to help the young woman out. Ramsay hadn’t realized he been holding his breath as she emerged until he sucked in a sharp gasp. 

“Thank you, Lord Baelish,” she said in a soft polite voice, a dimpled smile adding extra sweetness to her words. 

“Lord Bolton, I would like to introduce you to Cereena Lannister, only daughter of Kevan Lannister and cousin to King Tommen,” Baelish introduced Cereena to the Bolton men as she dipped her head in a quick bow. 

Cereena was a beautiful girl, that much was not hard to tell from a quick glance over, but now that she was up close and in front of him, Ramsay could fully take her in. She appeared to be in her early twenties and stood at an unremarkably average height. Her skin was beautifully sun kissed from growing up in the warmer southern climate; a trait that would surly fade over the coming months now that her new home was Winterfell. Cereena bore the telltale green eyes and thick lashes of the Lannister clan but what Ramsay found most peculiar was her hair. Instead of the golden locks synonymous with the Lannister name, Cereena’s hair was the same color as the snow that fell all around them. Not the pure silver of a Targaryen, but a platinum blonde so unlike anything he had ever seen. It was thick and fell in soft waves around her lovely face save for a few loosely braided pieces. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you my Lords,” Cereena said before turning her eyes to her future husband, really truly looking at him in for the first time. With his sharp jaw and shapely lips she found Ramsay’s face to be quite pleasing. However it wasn’t until their eyes met did Cereena take in his true beauty. His eyes were the color of pure ice, out in the bright natural lighting they looked almost white from reflecting off the snow. She could tell from just that one look his mind was at work, but god help her if she couldn’t read a single emotion on his face. While a beautiful man, Cereena knew this would not be the romantic marriage of her fantasies. 

It was very apparent Cereena felt nervous about meeting her future husband for the first time.   
Arranged marriages were always odd, so rarely did the bride know her husband for more than a month before they were wed. Ramsay could tell how clearly intimidated she felt by the entire situation, but she kept her poise and didn’t let the smile fall from her face. He was conflicted in what to do next. Everything in him told Ramsay to make the poor girl even more uncomfortable and watch her squirm, but for once he didn’t want to listen. 

Everything that had happened over the past few weeks was beginning to feel more and more like a cruel joke to the young Bolton. He was more than familiar with the subtleties of cruelty so he was waiting for reality to come shattering down. Up until a few weeks ago everything Ramsay did he did to become a Bolton. With that complete now he was being told he had to wed, and the bride his father chose was not only stunning, but also a Lannister. No man that committed the atrocities Ramsay had should be given so much good fortune in such a short period of time. A gorgeous bride from the richest family in Westeros felt literally too good to be true. So for once Ramsay wanted to cherish this moment, he wanted to cherish Cereena as his reward. 

“The pleasure is all mine Lady Cereena, might I say you’re even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,” Ramsay said complimenting his betrothed. He watched as her already wind flushed cheeks deepened in color noticeably.

“Words I’ve heard many times in one form or another. It stopped feeling like flattery and more of a greeting,” she sighed almost sounding disappointed, “you however, proved me wrong.” Cereena had a flustered smile on her face then. 

A pregnant silence grew through out the group as Ramsay and Cereena stared into each other’s eyes. Both minds racing with questions and insecurities. From the outside perspective it was a bit awkward watching two people who knew they were going to marry each other meet for the first time. However Baelish was feeling quite pleased with himself as he watched. If anyone in Westeros knew match making it was Petyr Baelish. He prided himself on making his client’s happy and to him the Bolton’s were just another client. Cereena was a bit more expensive and significantly more permanent than any of his past transactions, but a transaction none the less. 

“Well it seems this will be a happy marriage after all,” Roose Bolton said dryly, snapping the silent tension, “Lady Cereena I welcome you to Winterfell. I look forward to the ceremony so I can welcome you to the Bolton family as well.” At that he turned towards the doors of the inner castle, the group following him indoors and out of the cold. Without being told Reek as well as two other servants began unloading the carriage. Cereena watched as her bags were taken off into the castle, presumable to her chambers.

They were led into the Great Hall where a small meal had been set out for the four of them as well as Lady Walda, Roose’s wife. Having been inside the warm walls of Winterfell for a few minutes now Cereena began to feel over heated. She still wore the heavy cloak and furs for travel in the winter weather, but they were quickly becoming unnecessary. As she began to untie the heavy cloak from around her neck, a before unnoticed servant approached her. 

She gave Cereena an overly pleasant smile before asking, “May I take your cloak and furs my Lady?” Cereena returned the smile and handed her winter clothes to the young woman. 

“Why thank you; that would be quite helpful. And you are?” Cereena asked, slightly wary of the girl’s over friendliness. 

“My name is Myranda; I am the kennel masters daughter and your handmaiden, my Lady,” Myranda replied. Cereena became even more wary of her handmaiden now. Growing up with the Lannisters taught her that the kindest strangers had the worst intentions. 

Ramsay immediately took notice of Cereena’s body as she removed the heavy clothing. She had been hiding a slender waist with wide hips and full breasts underneath the cloak. Her figure promised fertility causing Ramsay’s thoughts to travel to the more fun places in his mind. Their wedding night couldn’t come soon enough. Myranda did her best to hide the screaming rage she felt as she watched Ramsay eye fuck Cereena, but he still noticed. As much as jealousy bored him, the young lord still enjoyed provoking his lover. Not that it was hard, if Ramsay looked at any girl with even a slightly pretty face she’d seethe. With his upcoming nuptials, Myranda must have been planning murder. 

As the servants took everyone’s coats they turned to the table. Their meal consisted of fresh baked bread, a beef and barley stew and some spiced wine. While delicious it felt incredibly heavy in Cereena’s stomach. She hadn’t gotten through half her stew before pushing it to the side to sip at the wine. 

“What’s wrong, pet? Not hungry?” Walda asked taking notice of her peckish behavior. 

“Oh quite the opposite actually. It appears my southern stomach cannot compete with the hearty meals of the north.” She answered with a small laugh. 

“Well you better eat up if you don’t want to freeze to death up here. You’re all skin and bones, sweet thing,” Lady Bolton chuckled. While taking another bite would surly split Cereena’s stomach in two, she could tell Lady Walda was a kind hearted woman with good intentions. It put part of her mind at ease knowing there was someone here she might be able to turn to. Other than Lord Baelish, Cereena knew no one in Winterfell. He would be leaving to return to King’s Landing shorty after the ceremony as well, only acting as Cereena’s escort to Winterfell while her father served as Hand of the King. 

“If you’re finished with your meal then, shall I have a servant escort you to your chambers, Lady Cereena? I can imagine you’d like to rest after such a long trip.” Roose offered. His tone and expression were always one of indifference, but he some how seemed constantly annoyed as well. He was an incredibly intimidating person to be around, and Cereena did not turn away the chance to be excused. 

“Yes thank you, Lord Bolton,” she answered. Once again without being told a servant appeared, she gave Cereena a polite smile and bowed. 

“Right this way, my Lady,” she said, starting down a hallway at the end of the room. As she made her through the halls of Winterfell, Cereena took notice of the beautiful architecture. Her footsteps echoed on the strong stone, carvings of dire wolves and great battles were decorating the walls. She felt her heart skip with a longing for the castles back home. The stories engrained in the walls were also the stories engrained in her mind, the history of her people. She felt so foreign this far North, where so many of the people were still loyal to the Starks and would hate her for simply being a Lannister. No matter that in a few days time Cereena would be a Bolton, Lannister blood still ran through her veins and would make her a hated woman until the day she died. She tried not to focus on such dreary facts, and instead thought of the positives. While not the castle she had grown up in, Winterfell was still an immaculate castle. Probably stronger so than the Red Keep or Casterly Rock where she had spent her youth. 

Once arrived the servant opened the door to a room that was noticeably warmer than the rest. A fact she found incredibly curious since the fireplace was not roaring with flames, and there was not an abundance of candles or lanterns to warm the room either. Before she had the chance to speak the young woman spoke up. 

“If no one told you, Winterfell was built above a hot spring many ages ago, my Lady. Pipes run hot water through the walls to keep the castle from being an absolute misery during the coldest months. Since many Ladies of Winterfell have hailed from the south, not unlike yourself, the chambers for The Lady of Winterfell are the warmest in the entire castle. The Lords of Winterfell like to take care of those they love most,” she told Cereena. 

“Could you see the confusion on my face?” She asked with a chuckle. 

The servant smiled then nodded, “everyone is confused their first time here, but they quickly grow to appreciate the odd nature of Winterfell. There are some fruits we can grow all year round that even your southern climates can not.” 

“Very interesting, it seems I’ll have many things to learn now that this is my new home,” Cereena said, trying not to sound dejected, “thank you for your help,” she dismissed the servant. The young girl left, the door shutting behind her with a finalizing click. The room had a deafening silence now that she stood alone in it. Stacked neatly at the foot of her bed were the trunks with her belongings the servants had taken earlier. Her cloak and furs hung on a hook on the back of the door. 

In the middle of the room sat a large tub, steam rising off its surface enticingly. The servants in Winterfell were expertly trained because they seemed to anticipate her needs before she could even ask them. A warm bath was the exact thing that would calm Cereena’s nerves and hopefully make her feel more comfortable in this new, strange place.


	2. Chapter 2

Two sets of footsteps echoed through the halls of Winterfell. The newly wed Lord and Lady Bolton left the Great Hall when their feast began to die down. Many speeches were spoken on their behalf, all wishing them a happy marriage. 

Ramsay threatened to flay anyone who even joked about a bedding ceremony, saving Cereena from the embarrassing tradition. Instead Ramsay escorted her to their chambers himself. 

The room was well lit and warm with candles placed carefully about and a fully stocked hearth for the fireplace. A servant must have been sent ahead to prepare the room because the furs on their bed looked fresh and clean; a full pitcher of wine sat on the small table as well. The door shut with a finalizing click of the lock. 

Cereena turned to her husband, nervously toying with the strings of her dress. She knew what tonight had in store for her to an extent, but nothing more than the stories her hand maidens would giggle to each other back in Kings Landing. 

“Why do you look so nervous my Lady?” Ramsay asked as he stepped closer to her. He took her hand in his and felt the slight tremble she was trying to hide. “Are you afraid?” He pressed, a teasing grin appeared on his face. On Ramsay it somehow managed to look sinister. Cereena swallowed and shook her head. 

“No my lord, just nervous and inexperienced. I don’t want to disappoint my husband on our wedding night,” she admitted. Ramsay smiled and shook his head as she spoke. Her eagerness to please him and be a good wife was one of her great qualities. He caressed her cheek forcing Cereena to meet his icy blue eyes; all her insecurities clear for him to read. She wasn’t much younger than himself but unlike Ramsay, Cereena was raised to keep herself pure until her wedding night. 

Normally Ramsay would jump at this showing of vulnerability, use it to his advantage while toying with his precious Cereena, but tonight was no normal night. This was Ramsay’s wedding night. Cereena was Ramsay’s wife under the name Bolton. He chose instead to cherish this moment as his reward for all his efforts.

Still caressing her cheek he leaned down pressing their lips together. Cereena returned his kiss, her plump lips conforming with his own easily. It lasted no more than a moment but he still left her breathless. 

“You’re not a whore from Kings Landing, isn’t this right my lovely Cereena?” He asked. She looked confused but he continued, “I didn’t come in here tonight expecting my wife to be a whore, I expected her to be a wife,” his words were harsh and made Cereena flinch, but they softened almost immediately, “I’m very pleased you’re a virgin, I wouldn’t have you any other way my darling,” he finished his statement with another kiss, this one purely possessive. Ramsay felt the fire deep in his gut ignite as he pulled her close. 

 

Cereena’s heart all but exploded in her chest when Ramsay said he wouldn’t have her any other way. It was all the validation she needed for the anxiety wracking her stomach to dissipate. Knowing Ramsay preferred her inexperienced even helped boost her confidence if only by a small amount. She always feared disappointing anyone, and the more time she spent with Ramsay the more she could tell he didn’t take disappointment well. 

Instead of focusing on her anxieties Cereena began to undress, beginning with the ties around her wrist then moving to the bodice of her dress. The buttons popped opened easily, slowly exposing warm, tanned skin to Ramsay’s hungry eyes. He pushed the garment down Cereena’s shoulders, caressing her arms with rough calloused hands. She tried breathing evenly to calm herself but every passing second only brought on more confusing feelings. Most of which was the warm pulling Cereena felt in her belly. It was pleasant but screaming to be sated at the same time. It caused her cheeks to flush as Ramsay kissed along her neck and shoulders, his hands caressing her sides. He pulled desperately at her underdress, becoming more and more frustrated with each layer of clothes that kept them apart. With a sharp motion he tore the front of Cereena’s simple dress open and forced it to the floor. What lay underneath surprised Ramsay and sent his blood rushing south. 

Cereena chose to forego the plain white corset most women wore underneath their clothing for a more memorable garment. Once she found out she would be wed to a Bolton, she had her favorite seamstress design a corset inspired by their old banners. The panels were made with hand dyed pink silk, small tear drop rubies hand sewn onto each section cascading downward. Wanting to stay true to the Bolton’s cruel reputation, the seamstress chose to use actual bone instead of iron for the boning of the corset.

Ramsay’s pupils were completely blown out as he admired Cereena’s garment. Along with the custom corset, she only wore long warm socks that stopped just above her knees. The tight braids her hair had been in earlier were removed, soft blonde waves now brushed lightly against her back. 

“My beautiful wife,” Ramsay chuckled incredulously, “the Bolton banner suits you well.” 

“Thank you my Lord, I had it made special for tonight,” Cereena replied feeling much more confident than before. 

“It must be difficult to breath in,” Ramsay mused quietly; his fingers running along her hips and the hem of the corset, goose flesh raising on her skin. He used her hips to turn Cereena around so she faced the bed. Short stubble tickled her shoulders as he painted small kisses along her back. 

“I wear one daily, breathing is no more difficult in this than any other I’ve worn,” she sighed into his touch, running her hands fondly along the front of the garment, “it’s just more beautiful.” She felt Ramsay pull the black silken ribbon of her corset, releasing the knot and loosening it for a moment. Cereena began to breath with ease, savoring the unrestricted oxygen flow. 

“That’s a shame,” Ramsay lamented, winding the excess ribbon around his hands. His wife was immediately alarmed by this reaction, her stomach dropping into a dreadful pit. “Shall we try?” He asked in a husky voice, wrenching the strings back painfully. Cereena lurched forward, clutching her chest as she struggled to breath. It wasn’t impossible but she could not expand her lungs enough to get anywhere near a full breath. 

Ramsay pulled even tighter before tying the corset off once more, leaving his wife to suffer as she fell on their bed. Her chest shaking in short puffs. He admired her beautiful face as it contorted in agony, jade green eyes pleading for help. His cock became painfully hard from the sight. Ramsay swiftly undressed himself, having no more patience for the restrictive clothing.   
Even in her frightened state however, the young bride admired her husband’s muscular body. 

The heavy furs and leathers needed to keep warm in the north did not hint to much of what lay underneath. Ramsay maintained a well sculpted form from his frequent battles, not overly muscular but the lines on his hips were enticingly defined and fun for the eyes to follow. The trail of dark hair from below his bellybutton was neatly trimmed and well kept.   
It seemed as though Ramsay took an eternity to untie the knot keeping his small clothes on, too distracted from watching Cereena struggle. His hard pink cock sprung up to attention as the garment was discarded. Her eyes were glued to his appendage; having never seen one before it was a marveling sight. Cereena wished desperately to be free of the corset so she could fully enjoy this moment. To explore a lifetime of curiosities about the male body, free from any shame or restrictions. 

Seeing her reaction to his naked body sent Ramsay’s blood racing. Cereena ogled his cock with wide, curious eyes. He knew not the extent of her virtue, but it seemed as though she wasn’t lying about being wholly inexperienced. Knowing he was the only man she had ever seen nude filled Ramsay with an overwhelming possessiveness. Cereena had so much innocence and purity for him to do with as he pleased, to shape her into someone just as deprived as himself. She wasn’t some whore he would use for his pleasure then slaughter once he got bored. He could never bore of Cereena; she was a symbol of his hard work and victory. A small part of his heart softened for her the moment she stepped out of the carriage and now he could feel it softening once again. 

It felt wrong. Ramsay rejected any tenderness that began to grow out of his mind and focused on what he knew. Toying with people. 

“I’m not happy with you Cereena. We’re man and wife now, that means we should be honest with each other,” he moved crawling onto the bed, the mood in the room violently shifting, “you told me you were a virgin, why did you lie?” Ramsay’s words confused Cereena’s already clouded mind. She shook her head in the negative, trying to deny his words, but he continued his ominous, stalking, crawl towards her. 

“Virgins are supposed to be shy and modest, yet you can’t take your greedy Lannister eyes off my cock,” he growled. Ramsay’s accusations held no merit and could be easily refuted if he were any other man. However Ramsay clearly had a sick game he wanted to play. He leaned over his wife, gripping her tightly by the throat. He didn’t cut off her air anymore than the corset, but that didn't stop her heart from racing in fear. 

“My wife. My beautiful, spoiled, little, Lannister wife. Along with all the gowns and jewelry your daddy bought for you, did he purchase any young lords as well? A bag of gold to keep his precious daughter from being lonely at night,” Ramsay sneered, “fucking royals never think about the affects of their actions. You didn’t care that you’d be robbing your husband of your maidenhood, so long as you got what you wanted. Isn’t that right, Lannister?” He spat out the last word as though it were rancid. Cereena continued shaking her head in denial.

“You’re wrong,” she managed to rasp out. Ramsay’s immediate reaction was one of anger. He snatched a previously unseen knife off a bedside table, holding the point above Cereena’s heart. 

“What did you say?” He laughed, hoping she said something to set him off again. Ramsay watched the expression on her face go from one of fear and pain to calm resolve. 

“You’re wrong. Not a Lannister,” Cereena struggle to speak, each word more strained than the last, “Bolton now,” she managed to finish her sentence without passing out. As her oxygen continued to be restricted black spots started filling her eyes as well as the edges of her vision becoming fuzzy. She may not have fainted from speaking but there was no way Cereena could stay conscious for much longer. 

That small act of submission, calling herself a Bolton instead of Lannister was exactly what Ramsay wanted to hear without realizing it himself. The Lannisters were arguably the most powerful house in all of Westeros. Her cousin, Cersei, kept the name Lannister instead of Baratheon after she wed Robert because it held that power. While a strong name, House Bolton had a long way to go to be considered one of the Great Houses. For Cereena to give up her born Lannister name and take on his own, it showed her loyalty, her acceptance of him.

“You shall make a good wife yet,” Ramsay praised, the malice still dripping from every word. Gripping her upper arm far too tightly, he forced Cereena onto her stomach. He watched his wife choke and agonize on the bed for a few moments longer before running his knife up the back of her corset. The ribbon cut through with ease, small popping sounds emitting as he went. 

Blissful oxygen rushed into Cereena’s lungs, her pitiful choking coming to an end. She took deep, rasping breaths then rolled over and out of the now ruined corset. Ramsay admired her chest as it heaved. Cereena snatched the garment she had once admired so much and tossed it across the floor near the fire place, then scrambled as far back on the bed as she could get from him. Her bare skin felt nice against the soft furs despite her panicked state. 

Ramsay chuckled at the immediate fear response. So naive to think that she was safe now that the corset hurting her was across the room. 

“I promise you I did not lie, husband,” Cereena said in a gasping voice, still trying to catch her breath. 

“Oh I know. Can’t a husband tease his wife on their wedding night?” Ramsay laughed, the tension in the room suddenly gone; his accusatory tone no more. 

Cereena could not help but feel baffled by this statement. Teasing? His displays of violence and harsh words were teasing to him? She quickly realized that if she were to survive this marriage she’d have to learn Ramsay’s games and learn them well. 

“Of course my Lord. We southerners are not known for our sense of humor. Hopefully my time in the North will enlighten me,” she replied with an apologetic smile. Ramsay moved up the bed to lay next to her. He met her gaze but said nothing, instead cupping her cheek. The kiss that came next was soft and affectionate. It surprised Cereena not only in the gentleness of it but her reaction to the kiss as well. She found herself leaning into the kiss, a small tug coming from something she could only describe as her core. 

Feeling her reciprocation Ramsay moved to deepen the kiss. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head. Cereena’s hair might not have been the red hue he typically favored, but it felt like silk and the color reminded him of snow fall at night. In the few days he had known her it always smelt of lavenders. Ramsay once again felt his heart soften as their bodies intertwined.

Cereena melted into the kiss, letting herself feel intimate with another human for the first time. She was still wary of what Ramsay could do at any moment, but she knew that tonight was also her wedding night. It was her duty to consummate this marriage. As much as she’d rather take her time to grow their relationship, get to know and hopefully love Ramsay, Cereena knew this wasn’t her reality. That did not mean however that she had to suffer through just because tonight was not what she had romanticized it to be. So she kissed her husband, then mirrored his actions running her fingers through his faint curls. 

Ramsay naturally took lead; spreading Cereena’s legs and repositioning himself between them. His right hand gripped the fur next to her head to prop himself up. Grasping his thick cock in hand he ran the head against the length of her sex; spreading her open for him to see. 

Cereena jumped at the new sensation, she tried desperately to hide the blush on her cheeks and not giggle from embarrassment. She’d never felt this vulnerable or exposed to anyone before, nor had anything but her own fingers touched the sensitive area between her legs. Ramsay’s cock now grinding against her entire length felt nice, but it was also so new. Cereena felt a burning heat between her legs that ever pass of Ramsay’s cock stoked hotter and hotter. 

She was finally unable to keep the giggle in any longer. It seemed she was right in her attempts to suppress the sound because instantly Ramsay’s hand was around her throat. He didn’t tighten his grip at all but the sensation still sent Cereena’s pulse racing. 

“Would you enlighten me on what you find so funny, wife?” He asked only slightly annoyed. It was then that Ramsay chose to press his cock forward into her entrance. He didn’t go in past the tip but she still felt heavenly. He watched as Cereena sucked in her breath from the intrusion. Her entire body tensing up. 

“Just nerves, husband,” she replied in a clipped tone, obviously uncomfortable. Ramsay pushed himself in further, forcing Cereena to look at him before speaking. 

“Relax,” he told her, icy eyes boring down into jade. 

But how could she with his hand around her throat and cock painfully stretching her? A fullness so foreign it felt wrong. 

“It will feel better if you relax,” Ramsay repeated, tightening his grip ever so slightly as he continued his assault on her maidenhood. Cereena nodded, her brows furrowed with concern. 

She took a few deep breaths through her nose and shut her eyes. It was physically impossible to focus on any one thing she was feeling at the moment with so much sensory overload happening. Cereena’s only goal was to temper her tense muscles, relax her body to appease her husband. It felt like an impossible task, but when Ramsay removed his hand from her throat and kissed her softly on the lips she knew he was pleased. 

“Good girl,” he told her, now fully sheathed inside his wife. Ramsay’s touch continued to be soft as he started to move. His hand cupped her cheek while he kissed her tenderly. It was a fine distraction from the movement of his hips. He only rocked them in slow motions but even that felt like too much for Cereena. 

Ramsay’ cock moved gently through her entrance, fucking his wife open at an agonizing pace. If she were anyone else he wouldn’t give her time to feel comfortable with him. If she were anyone else he’d have bent her over the table and shoved himself inside her in one motion. If she were anyone else she might have already been choked to death or the knife that cut her corset would have slipped. So much of what made Ramsay Ramsay went out the door when she stepped in. 

It took her time to grow accustomed to the awful intrusion that stretched and tore Cereena at her core. Ramsay kept his place slow but inquisitive, probing at her inner walls until they gave him passage. Cereena’s virtue was not the only one Ramsay had taken however. Myranda’s was his, as well the girl’s who he lost his own virginity to. He knew how to read their body language well, and from the subtle shift in his wife’s hips he knew she was ready. 

Cereena cursed when Ramsay began fucking her in earnest. He did not switch immediately from soft to rough, but his pace was increasing with each thrust. A steady heat radiated from her core and began growing to all her limbs. The intruding pain slowly dissipated to welcomed pain; the fullness that felt so foreign before had new meaning. She gripped his shoulders, feeling the hard, defined, muscle move underneath. 

Ramsay became awash with overwhelming need as his wife came undone beneath him. He watched her face transform from the frightened inexperienced girl, to the woman he now pleasured beneath him. Her mouth hung open as small cries filled his ears. 

Never before had Ramsey felt this close with someone. When he lay with Myranda there was always a ferocity to their sex. The Kennel Master’s daughter fucked like she had something to prove, to get the validation she so desperately needed from Ramsay. There was always an unspoken comment or withheld emotions with Myranda. It kept a barrier between the two he grew tired of. Although so new to his life, Cereena had no walls. Not in the sense Myranda did. 

Cereena and Ramsay came into each other’s lives knowing they would be married, they had an inherit understanding of where they stood to one another. He was her husband and she was his wife. It made it easier for the young Lord to feel open with Cereena simply for that fact. There was a tenderness to their movements that never felt right with Myranda, with any girl in fact. 

The pleasure building in Ramsay was growing near it’s peak. His hips no longer able to keep up their rhythm, instead moving of their own volition controlled only by what brought the most sensation to his desperate cock. Mind set on now chasing his own release, he didn’t of think what this might feel like for his wife. Cereena only sucked in a sharp gasp and continued on, taking his cock like a good wife should. 

“You’re mine, pretty thing,” Ramsay grunted into her ear, “my wife, mine to do with as I please.” His voice was shaky and clipped, clearly holding himself back as long as he could. 

“Your’s,” Cereena moaned as she arched her back, sharp nails digging into his flesh. Hearing her accede to his possessive statements was enough to send Ramsay over the edge. With a tight grip on Cereena’s waist, Ramsay presses himself as deeply as he could into his wife. His entire body shuddered as he peaked inside her, eyes screwed tightly shut. 

If she didn’t know any better Cereena would have have sworn Ramsay was in pain. The sounds he was making and the expression on his face did not allude to pleasure, but once the moment had passed he looked like pure bliss. Ramsay’s eyes were glossed over when he opened them. The ice blue of his iris now just a thin ring, eclipsed by his blown out pupils. A satiated smile sat on his face as he peered down at Cereena, her own tired expression meeting his own. 

Ramsay gave his wife a chaste kiss before sitting up, unsheathing himself as he did. Looking past her on the bed he grabbed a small pillow. 

“Lift your waist,” he instructed. Cereena did as she was told. The small cushion slipped underneath, forcing her hips to lay at an upward angle. “Can’t lose a drop if we’re going to produce an heir,” Ramsay told his wife as he moved to lay next to her. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her in close. Small pecks tickled her shoulder while Ramsay mindlessly drew shapes along her abdomen. 

The blush on Cereena’s cheeks grew rapidly until she felt like her entire body were bright pink. This was far more intimate than anything she had ever experienced and she never wanted it to end. Ramsay’s affectionate touches filled Cereena’s heart with an emotion she did not know but savored every second of. Her mind was floating on literal clouds, completely blind to the very real threat that she was entangled with at the moment. 

“How is my wife?” Ramsay asked, breaking the silence. Cereena turned her head so they faced each other, he still looked pleased which she took as a good sign. She opened her mouth to speak but only embarrassed laughter came out. 

“Throbbing is the only word that comes to mind at the moment,” she continued to chuckle, “but a good throbbing. It feels warm and welcoming like an embrace meant for only me.” She touched his face gently then, rubbing her fingers affectionate through his short beard. 

“Your words are like poetry, I take it you enjoyed yourself then?” He asked, clearly trying to appease his own vanity. 

“Towards the end, yes very much. Although from what I’ve been told the more we uhh,” Cereena coughed, “are intimate with each other the more pleasure I should take from these experiences. I’ve been told tales of this thing called an orgasm by my hand maidens and they make it describe like the greatest experience of their lives. Is that true?” She looked at him with an honest expression, no hint of humor anywhere on her face. 

Ramsay could not stop the full belly laugh that shook his body. Cereena felt incredibly embarrassed by his response, her brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Oh my darling, innocent wife. What a sheltered life you’ve led,” his tone was still amused as he spoke, “I have so much to show you.” Whether that be nightmarish horrors or mind numbing pleasure, no one could be sure with Ramsay. His affectionate words however put her mind at ease. 

The familiar cloudiness of sleep soon became too overwhelming to resist. With a final kiss Ramsay grabbed the heavy down comforter, covering their exposed body from the cool night air. 

“Sleep well, Lady Cereena,” Ramsay said to his wife. She murmured something in a similar vain to him as she quickly descended into slumber. With their night coming to an end, the newly wed Lady Bolton slept peacefully in her husbands arms, uncaring of the atrocities they had caused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading. Next chapter will be where things really get started.


End file.
